He's Finally Getting Married!
by BiblioBabe
Summary: One of the Rabb boys is getting married! Can you guess who? (Hint: the bride's name is Greta, and she's a stewardess).
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer:  I am receiving no profit, monetary or otherwise, from this fanfiction.

Author's Note:  Just a short piece of stuff that takes place without regard to Paraguay, but after the Singer issue is resolved.  This is the wedding of Sergei and Greta (I think that's her name).  Shipperish.

1900 Hours

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

            Mac walked in carrying her bags and stepped over her mail to set them down on her counter.  She returned to pick up the pile of letters that had been slipped through her mail slot, not expecting anything worthwhile.  "Hmm, let's see," she thought.  "Cell phone bill, Coldwater Creek catalogue, pizza coupon, wedding invitation with a Russian stamp, credit card bill . . . wait a minute, wedding invitation with a Russian stamp?"  She hurriedly tore the envelope open.  Inside was an invitation to Sergei's wedding to the airline stewardess Greta.  She was on her way to call Harm when a knock sounded at her door.  She opened it to see Harm standing on the other side, holding an envelope similar to hers.

            "Hey, Mac!" he greeted her cheerily.  "So you did get your invitation.  Sergei told me to make sure you knew you were invited, you know, just in case your invite got lost in the mail.  So are you going to go?  Please please please?"

            "Harm, hi.  I don't know—I haven't even looked at the date!"  

            "Oh, come on, Mac!  You have to!  He's my brother!  He really really really wants you to be there!  It's really important to him!"

            "Geeze, Harm, someone is excited about this," Mac observed wryly.

He grinned at her.  "Well, come on Mac, it's not every day my brother gets married and . . ." he paused, letting the anticipation build.

Mac bit.  "And what, Harm?  Something sounds really important."

"And," Harm continued triumphantly, "I get to be the best man!"

"I'm very happy for you, Harm.  I'm sure it'll be a great comfort to Sergei to know his big brother is up there with him."

"I hope so, Mac.  Hey!  Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Thursday night, hmm, oh yes, I have a hot date."

"Oh," Harm's face fell.

"Yes, Harm, a hot date with a bunch of paperwork and leftover Chinese take-out.  Why?  Did you have something in mind?"

"How about I cook dinner and we can hang out and have fun, you know, like we used to!"

"That sounds great, Harm."

Dinner had been cleared up and they were relaxing on the couch, just sitting quietly.  Suddenly, Harm broke the silence.  "Hey Mac, doesn't the best man have to, you know, give a toast?"

Mac nodded.  "Mmm-hmm, that's usually how it works.  I'm sure your speech will be fine."

"Well, Mac, I was just thinking about that.  Won't most of the people at the wedding be Russian?  And Russian people, well, speak Russian, and I don't."

Mac reflected for a moment.  "Yes, most of the people will probably be Russian, but if Russians learn another language in school, it's usually English.  If there really is a large proportion of non-English speakers, I'm sure Alexi, or one of your brother's other friends, can translate."

"Yeah . . ." Harm trailed off.  

Mac glanced over at Harm.  His normally handsome face had clouded over and he seemed unhappy with her answer.  "Harm, would you like me to help you translate your speech into Russian and practice your pronunciation for your brother's wedding?"

His face brightened.  "Mac, you're the best!"  He leaned over to give her a hug.  "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Mac smiled and shook her head.  "Not a bit, flyboy.  It would be an honor.  And then, maybe you could handle yourself in Russia without me having to cover your backside all the time."

"So does that mean you won't be coming to the wedding?" Harm asked apprehensively.  

"No, Harm," Mac said with a sigh.  "It means that taking a taxi into a war zone isn't one of my favorite activities.  Come on, how often have you had a Russian cab driver—who works for whatever secret agent is paying him that day—inviting you to a weekend at the Black Sands Hotel?"

"Mac, I had no idea you felt that way.  I'm sorry you feel like I've been dragging you on all these missions—missions that were me chasing my deamons."

"Harm, I'm not saying that I 'resent you dragging me on all these missions.'  Hell, I followed you—you tried your damndest to get rid of me!  Besides, you'd do the same for me.  I'm saying that I'm afraid I won't always be available to come with you, and I just want to know that you won't disappear into Russia, never to return, okay?"

"Fine, Mac.  Thank you," Harm replied softly.

"Now," Mac said with a smile.  "Are you going to start working on your toast, or do I have to come over there?"

"Aye aye, ma'am!"


	2. Greta, meet Mac

Disclaimer:  See part one

Author's note:  Anything in _italics_ indicates conversation in Russian.  Greta doesn't speak English, and I don't speak Russian, so let's all pretend!  Also, from my recollections, Alexi is the cab driver and Alex is the Russian army captain, correct?  If I'm wrong, please let me know.  Thanks!  Thanks for the reviews!

2 Months Later

1800 Hours, Local Time (0200 Zulu)

Moscow International Airport

Moscow, Russia.

            Greta grumbled as she and Alexi waited for Harm's friend, Colonel MacKenzie.  Here it was, three days before her wedding, and instead of worrying about last minute details, she was in the airport waiting for some floozy friend of her soon-to-be half-brother-in-law's.  Not only that, but she was here with some insane taxi driver that Harmon knew, because he was a friend of the Colonel's and begged to come with her.  Sergei had thought it would be a good idea for the two girls to bond, but Greta just wanted to get her stuff together.  She sighed again and looked around the baggage claim.  Where was this woman?  

            Alexi, for his part, couldn't wait to see the Beautiful Colonel again.  He had heard from Mr. Webb that she was no longer dating that Australian.  For this, he was grateful.  Maybe now he would have a chance with the beautiful American woman.  In his heart, though, he knew that this was not true.  She loved Harmon.  But still, he could dream, couldn't he?

            Mac walked into baggage claim and picked up her suitcase.  She looked around until she saw Alexi's hand waving violently in the air, then walked over to him.  He met her halfway, followed by a young blond that Mac took to be Greta, Sergei's fiancée.

            "Beautiful Colonel!" said Alexi, hugging her and kissing her cheeks.  "It is so good to see you!  You are looking more beautiful than ever, if that is even possible!  Ah, the Commander has it lucky, seeing you every day!"

            "Hello, Alexi," Mac returned.  "It's good to see you as always.  I promise we won't take any unscheduled trips into Chechnya."

            "That is wonderful news, beautiful Colonel.  I don't like anything that puts you in danger."

            "I'm a Marine, Alexi.  It's my job," Mac told him, not for the first time.

            Alexi sighed and shook his head.  "I know, I know Beautiful Colonel.  But that doesn't stop me from worrying.  Before I get too carried away, may I present Miss Greta Nabreshnikoff, fiancée to Sergei Zhukov."

            _"Ah, Greta," Mac said in Russian.  _"It is good to finally meet you.  I wish I had met you when you and Sergei were in the States earlier this year, but . . . .  Anyway, it's very nice to meet you.  I would also like to compliment you on your choice of men, and commend you for being able to understand the Rabb psyche.  Heaven knows I've been trying for eight years and haven't figured it out yet!  And I bring congratulations from the JAG staff and a warm welcome into the JAG family, extended though it may be."__

_            Greta was surprised at Colonel MacKenzie's warmth and candor.  She had been expecting a brainless floozy, like the Renée character.  Instead, this was a woman who was obviously intelligent and genuinely nice.  Startled, she replied, __"Hello, Colonel.  It's nice to meet you too.  Thank you for your warm welcome into the JAG family."_

_            "Please, Greta.  Call me Mac; most people do."_

_            "OK, Mac."_

            Escorted by Alexi, the two women walked out to the waiting taxicab.  

2000 Hours Local

Sergei's Apartment

Moscow, Russia

            Sergei and Harm walked into Sergei's apartment for a late supper after the final tuxedo fittings.  "I wonder how the girls got along?"  Harm wondered.

            "Probably well, Big Brother.  Do not worry about the Beautiful Colonel so much.  Love means you have to let them go and do their own things.  You're ten years older than me; haven't you learned that yet?  Well, maybe not, that is probably why you are not married to Mac yet!" Sergei shot back.

            "Sergei, how many times do I have to tell you, I don't love Mac like that!" Harm complained.  Honestly, between Sergei and Sturgis, he was going to go crazy!

            "Harmon, you can tell me that as many times as you want, I still won't believe you.  I know it, you know it, everybody knows it," Sergei replied.  "But let's not argue, the girls should be here soon."

            At that moment, the doorbell rang.  Sergei ran to answer it.  Greta and Mac stood on the other side, grinning.  Greta walked in and kissed Sergei, and Mac followed, hugging him and kissing both cheeks.  "Hello, Sergei, how are you?" asked Mac.

            _"Better, now that I don't have to listen to Big Brother wondering how you were every twelve seconds.  Seriously, Beautiful Colonel, it is good to see you,"_ Sergei replied.  

            _"Sergei, knock it off!"_ Mac lightly replied to his teasing, though her blush belied her true feelings.  "Harm, how's it going?" she asked.  

            "I'm great, thanks, Mac.  You're staying at the Marriott, too, right?" he replied, hugging her.

            The hug caught Mac slightly off guard.  "Yes, and don't worry, I have my own room."

            "I wasn't worried," said Harm confidently.  "Can I come by and talk to you later tonight?" he asked.

            Mac knew immediately that he really wanted to go over his speech some more before the wedding.  "Not a problem, Flyboy."

            "Thanks, Mac."

            The two couples (although, had they been asked, Harm and Mac would have insisted they didn't constitute a couple) had a great time that evening.  Conversation mixed English and Russian, Mac and Sergei translating for the other two.  Finally, Mac began to yawn, jet lag catching up with her.  Harm noticed, and they left for their hotel, leaving Greta and Sergei alone.

            _"So, Greta dear, what do you think of the Beautiful Colonel?"_

_            "At first, I must admit, I was worried that she was like that awful Renée your brother was dating.  But she turned out to be a very nice lady.  How long have she and Harmon been together?"_

_            "Greta," Sergei said evily.  _"You should ask the Beautiful Colonel that and judge her reaction for yourself."  __

            The next two days were a whirlwind of activity for the young Russian couple that were about to join their lives.  Harm was also busy helping Sergei with what he could, though he often felt helpless because he did not speak Russian.  Mac was helping Greta with last minute details, having gone through the entire experience (except the actual marriage) two years previous.  Evenings were spent with Harm hanging out in Mac's hotel room practicing his best man speech.  Sooner that it seemed, the big day was upon them.

**Tune in next time for the wedding!**


	3. The Wedding

Disclaimer:  See part one.

Author's Note:  Thanks to the reviewers!  Keep them coming!  As always, anything in _italics is conversation in Russian; plain face is narration or conversation in English.  Now, on to the wedding!_

The Day of the Wedding

1100 Hours Local

St. George's Orthodox Church

Moscow, Russia

            Mac swung the car into the church's parking lot, breathing a sigh of relief.  She didn't relish driving in foreign countries, especially where the laws were as lax and the police as corrupt as here in Russia.  She was driving, though, because Harm had called her at 0800, frantically explaining that Sergei was totally out of it-his mental state rivaled Bud's on his wedding day, Harm had said.  Once Mac had arrived at the apartment, she knew Harm hadn't been exaggerating.  Sergei was, well, loopy.  The bloody wads of toilet paper stuck to his face were only the most visible signs.  He was muttering to himself, not making any sense, with a big goofy grin on his face.  He was in no state to drive, and Harm didn't feel comfortable, not being able to read either the directions or the street signs.  So, Mac was elected to drive the lucky groom and his best man to the church.  

            Once the two men were safely installed in the church library, which doubled as the men's changing room for weddings, Mac went off in search of Greta.  Sergei had regained normal thought and speech patterns long enough to ask her to check on his fiancée.  Finally finding the women's restroom and lounge, Mac pushed the door open and was bombarded with the concentrated scents of hairspray and flowers.  In the middle of four sisters in purple stood Greta, trying to adjust her crinoline and sobbing.  Luckily, she had used waterproof eye make-up; otherwise, she could have been a double for Ricky the Raccoon.

            Mac turned to the sister nearest her.  _"Excuse me, is this normal wedding-day nerves, or something more serious?" she asked the girl, Nadia, Greta's second-oldest sister.  Mac had met all the sisters over the past few days and was getting to know them._

            Nadia, who had been married the year before, smiled.  _"Normal wedding day nerves, Sarah.  She is worried that she made the wrong choice, that it will never work out, that he will hate her, et cetera.  Of course, as soon as she starts up that aisle, all but her love will be forgotten."_

            Mac smiled and nodded.  That's about the same thing Harriett was feeling before she was married to Bud.  Is that how she would have felt if she had married Mic?  She shook the thought out of her head; it was all over now.  _"Pardon me then, please.  I have just come from Sergei—he wants to know how she is doing."_  Nadia moved out of her way, and Mac walked closer to Greta.  _"Greta," Mac began.  __"Sergei wanted to know how you were.  He is very anxious to know that you are alright."_

Greta turned on Mac violently.  _"He wants to know that I am alright?  Of course I'm not alright!  This is all wrong, WRONG!"  With that, Greta gave up on trying to adjust her petticoat and sat down on the floor, sobbing.  One of her other sisters, Sasha, put her arm around Greta, but was repulsed by her sister's flailing arms._

            Mac bent down to Greta's level.  _"Greta, Sergei wanted you to know that he loves you very much.  He is as nervous as you are, but deep down, he knows that this is what he wants, that it is you he wants to spend his life with, because he loves you."_

_            "Really, Sarah?  Really?" _ Greta asked, still sobbing.  

            _"Of course!"_ Mac said.  _"Now, you really should finish getting dressed so we can get you married!"_

            _"Thank you, Sarah," said Greta.  _"Could you go tell Sergei that I love him, too?"__

Mac nodded and left, leaving the five Nabreshnikoff sisters alone.

1204 Hours Local

St. George's Orthodox Church

Moscow, Russia

            Mac had spent the last forty-five minutes listening to the words Harm had to recite in Russian.  Although Sergei knew that Harm would be doing the parts of the ceremony reserved for the best man in Russian, he was still unaware of Harm's work at the toast for the reception.  Sergei was pacing like a caged bear.  Harm asked "Mac, how much longer until we get this show on the road?"  Sergei, also curious, looked at Mac.

            "The service starts at one o'clock, correct?" Mac asked.  The two Rabb men nodded, along with the two groomsmen who spoke English.  The other groomsman, who was Greta's brother and spoke only Russian, waited while one of the others translated.  "Then we have fifty-six minutes and seventeen seconds," Mac informed them.

            Sergei looked shocked.  "How does she do that?" he asked his brother.

            "Beats me," Harm said.  "I've been wondering that for years."

            Mac stood up.  "As much fun as it's been hanging out with all you hunky guys, I'm going to step outside.  I'm afraid that the Russian version of Old Spice is going to my head."

            "Beautiful Colonel," Sergei asked.  "Please go check on my Greta again."

            "Of course, Sergei," Mac said, leaving the room.

            Mac walked into the Bride's room.  Greta was sitting in a chair, wearing everything but her veil and dress, having her hair adjusted one last time by her sister Anya.  _"Greta?"_ Mac asked.  _"How are things going?"_

_            "Ummm, alright, I guess.  There seems to be something I'm forgetting," _Greta replied uncertainly.

            _"That's normally the case, Greta.  Let's see:  Dress?"_

_            "Yes."_

_            "Veil?"_

_            "Yes."_

_            "Engagement ring?"_

_            "Yes."_

_            "Sergei's wedding band?"_

_            "Ummm,"_ said Greta

            _"Right here!" called Nadia, her matron of honor._

_            "Flowers, shoes, hose, jewelry?"_

_            "Yes, yes, yes, and yes."_

_            "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?" _Mac finished.

            Greta knitted her brow in confusion.  _"What are you talking about, Sarah?" _

            Mac shook her head.  _"It's an old American tradition.  In the states, when a bride gets married, it is considered good luck to wear something that's old, something that's new, something that's borrowed, and something that's blue.  I don't know that it is really that important, but like I said, it's tradition in the States."_

_            "It's tradition in __America__, you say, Sarah?" Greta asked.  Mac nodded.  _"Well, Sergei's father was American.  Maybe I should do this American custom too.  What do you think?  I think that it is very important."__

Mac shrugged her shoulders.  _"I think, Greta, that if it feels right to honor Sergei's heritage in this way, then go for it."_

_            "Okay, let's see.  Something old, you said?  My earrings—they were our mother's."_

_            "There you go.  Now, something new?"  _Mac queried.

            Greta reflected for a moment.  _"Oh, my dress, of course!"___

_            "Something borrowed . . . ."_

_            "My veil—Nadia wore it at  her wedding."_

_            "And now," _Mac said.  _"Something blue."___

Greta looked around the room.  _"Does anyone have anything blue?  Nadia?"_

_            "No."_

_            "Sasha?"_

_            "No."_

_            "Anya?"_  

Anya thought for a few minutes and then replied.  _"No."_

_"Lida?"___

_"No, Greta, nothing."___

The room was silent for a few minutes, everyone thinking.  Finally, Mac spoke up.  _"Greta, I have an idea," she said.  The other girls, looking relieved that a minor catastrophe had been avoided and sensing that this was somewhat important, bustled about checking hair and makeup one last time, giving Mac and Greta some space.  Mac reached behind her head and manipulated the clasp of her necklace.  __"Greta, I bought this necklace the first time Harm and I came to __Russia__."  Mac held up the necklace.  Suspended from a fine gold chain was a bubble of clear glass.  In the center of the bubble was a tiny, perfect, blue flower.  _"This flower is a forget-me-not.  The day Harm and I spent in __Moscow___, after we had learned the fate of Harmon Senior and before our plane left, Harm spent the day holed up in the hotel room.  He wanted to be alone, to digest what we had learned.  I honored his request, and spent the day in the open-air markets in the city.  At one of the booths, I found this necklace.  The perfection of the forget-me-not spoke to me.  I knew, somehow, that Harmon Sr. would never be forgotten, and this seemed to be a promise of that.  I bought it on the spot and I have worn it every Christmas eve, and every trip to _Russia___ since then, as a kind of a memorial to Harmon Sr. and a promise to his sons.  If you would like to borrow it to complete the American tradition, you are more than welcome to."_

When Mac finished, Greta had tears in her eyes.  _"Sarah, I would be honored to wear your necklace—this necklace of promise—at my wedding.  Thank you very much.  The symbolism will mean the world to Sergei."_

_            "I know,"_ Mac said.  She wound the chain around Greta's wrist as a bracelet and fastened the ends together.  _"Now you are ready to get married.  My wish for you is that it will be a long and happy marriage, filled with lots of love, and lots of children.  Go with God."_

The ceremony started right on time and went off without a hitch.  Mac sat on the groom's side as a testament to her friendship with Harm.  He snuck looks at her during the service, usually after one of his required Russian responses, waiting for her nod of approval.  He noticed that she looked different from the morning, but he didn't realize that it was because she wasn't wearing the forget-me-not necklace, because she had never told him its significance.

            Harm's heart ached as he watched his brother kiss Greta.  He wanted that kind of happiness.  As Greta wound her arms around Sergei's neck, a ray of sunlight shone through the small charm on her bracelet and threw a rainbow pattern onto his tux.  The rainbow seemed to be a promise in itself, a sign that he, too, would one day have that happiness.  After this thought struck him, he looked over at Mac.  The wistfulness in her eyes was not lost to him.  "Someday," he promised himself, and her.  "Someday."

**Enough sappy, emotional stuff.****  Are you ready to party at the reception?**


End file.
